Undercover Agent

by Slade, Heather

  “Are we expecting anyone else?” I asked, never dreaming we were until I saw the look on Paxon’s face.

  “Let’s take this over to Saint’s apartment,” Lynx suggested.

  “I’m curious why you didn’t meet there in the first place.” I was being a bitch—I knew that—but I didn’t appreciate being blindsided this way.

  Paxon looked at Lynx, but neither spoke.

  “Oh, for God’s sake,” I muttered. I set my coffee on the counter and went in search of my phone. It wasn’t on my nightstand or my dresser. I checked my purse, but no luck there either. I folded my arms and tapped my lips with my finger, trying to recall the last time I saw it. When I looked up, Lynx stood in my doorway, holding up his cell phone.

  “I just got a message from Simon. Bridget found a mobile on the counter this morning and wondered if it might be yours.”

  I dropped my arms and fisted my hands. Could this day get any more infuriating? Wait. Forget that thought. As early as it was, I had no business tempting fate.

  “Emerson?”

  “I heard you,” I snapped, not looking at him.

  “Would you like me to—”

  “No!”

  “But you didn’t—”

  “No. Whatever you’re about to offer, my answer is no.”

  He held up his hands and walked away. I listened for the front door to close, and when it did, I let out the breath I’d been holding.

  “I’m doing this for you, Tommy,” I shouted into the emptiness of my apartment. “And I shouldn’t, because I’m really pissed at you for leaving the way you did, without even talking to me about what happened. Really pissed,” I continued to mutter as I kicked off my heels and stomped down the hallway.

  “Why?”

  “Oh my God, you scared me to death!” I shrieked and brought my hand to my heart when I saw Lynx standing in my kitchen.

  “Why are you pissed at him?”

  I folded my arms in front of me. “What are you still doing here?”

  “I wanted to talk to you…alone.”

  “Why? We said everything we needed to last night.”

  Lynx walked closer to me and unfolded my arms. “If we said all we needed to, why are you angry with me?”

  I jerked away from him and walked around to the other side of the kitchen island. “I’m angry because three people unexpectedly showed up at my apartment this morning, and not a single one offered an apology for doing so.”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “Okay, so Paxon apologized, but that doesn’t change the fact that I had just gotten out of the shower and wasn’t even dressed when he showed up.”

  “In that case, I’m very sorry I didn’t arrive first.”

  “You can’t say things like that, and wipe that smirk off your face.”

  He came around the island and stood close enough to touch. “What can’t I say?”

  “Anything remotely suggestive.” Before I could move around to the opposite side, he grabbed my wrist.

  “What if I can’t help myself?”

  “What? No.” I shook my head.

  “What if everything I said last night was the stupidest thing I’ve ever uttered?”

  “You can’t fucking do this,” I swore as he took a step closer to me.

  “Why are you angry with Saint?”

  “Tommy.”

  “Why, Emerson?”

  “It’s none of your business.” I tried to turn my wrist out of his grasp, but he held tight.

  “Tell me anyway.”

  I shook my head again. “No.”

  “You said he knows why. Tell me.”

  “You said you were here to do a job. That we had one night, and that was all it would ever be.”

  “You said you were angry with him for leaving the way he did. What did you mean, Emerson?” He cupped my face with his palm “Tell me this. Do you love him?”

  I scrunched my eyes and looked up at him. “What?”

  “Do you love him?”

  “Tommy?”

  Lynx nodded.

  “I don’t understand the question.”

  “Tell me if you love him.”

  13

  Lynx

  I hated how confused she looked, but I couldn’t help myself. I had to know whether all was lost, or if after Saint was found and he and I were on equal footing, there was a chance for me to make Emerson mine.

  If she loved him, really loved him, I’d do the right thing and walk away. But if she didn’t, I’d know it would be worth it to fight for her.

  When she talked about Saint for the second time last night, I wanted to get up and leave like I’d done before, but I couldn’t without stiffing on the bill for my drinks, not to mention how horribly rude it was the first time I did it.

  While I’d been the one to say we’d shared a magical night and there would be no others, hearing her agree felt like a punch to my gut. The woman I’d spent the last three years fantasizing about was within my reach, but I could no longer touch her. I was thankful that I’d kissed her yesterday, and more than once. At the time, I never dreamed it would be the last time I would.

  When she’d stood and walked away, I felt as though she was taking my heart with her. I spent the rest of the night wishing I could undo all of it and tell Emerson that I cared enough to fight for her—if it came to that.

  “Do you, Emerson? Do you love him? If you do, I’ll walk away.”

  Her eyes searched mine. “And if I don’t?”

  “If you don’t…” Words weren’t enough. I grasped her nape and captured her mouth with mine. When she yielded to me, kissed me with a fervor that matched my own, I had my answer.

  She didn’t use words, but with her lips, she told me that, at the very least, I had a chance. I slid my hand down her spine and cupped her bottom, tilting her pelvis so she could feel how much I wanted her.

  “Wait,” she gasped, pushing me away. “Paxon and Mr. Ashford are waiting for you.”

  I closed my eyes and looked up at the ceiling, silently cursing the meeting we were about to have. “Yes. They’re waiting for us both.”

  When we walked into Saint’s apartment, three additional men were there, all of whom I’d been briefing earlier when Irish took it upon himself to go directly to Emerson’s apartment. It was something I had every intention of discussing with him later.

  “This is my brother, Keon,” I said to her when he approached.

  Emerson shook his outstretched hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Keon.”

  “Most people call me Edge, ma’am.” His eyes met mine, and he smirked, giving me something else to discuss later.

  “I’m Grinder—uh, Miles Stone.” Emerson shook his hand too.

  “And I’m Cortez DeLéon. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Rile kissed the back of Emerson’s hand rather than shake it.

  “Are we ready to get down to business?” asked Decker. The man was no-nonsense, something I appreciated a great deal.

  “Emerson,” Irish said before I had a chance to speak. “As you’re aware, the CIA and MI6 have been working jointly undercover here and at IPP over the last few months.”

  I watched as Emerson processed the information briefed to her. She walked across the room and over to the window.

  “These gentlemen,” Irish motioned to my brother, Decker, Rile, and Grinder, “were asked to come on board after the CIA received word of a brush pass between one of our agents and Saint.”

  Irish took a step closer to her. “They’re with a private security and intelligence firm. They’ll be leading the mission from this point on.”

  Emerson tapped her lips with her fingertip, something I noticed she did often. “What was the mission?”

  “To locate Saint and Dr. Benjamin,” Irish answered.

  I watched her blue eyes turn a steely gray. “That isn’t what I asked. I said, ‘What was the mission?’ Not what is the mission.”

  Irish looked to me, and I shook my head. He’d started this
by speaking out when he should’ve deferred to me. He’d dug this hole; he could get himself out of it.

  “For the time being, you, Emme, will be working from a remote location, as will I.” For the second time, he didn’t answer Emerson’s question. I could see her anger boiling to the surface. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

  “A remote location? Where? Or is that another question you’re refusing to answer?”

  “Don’t be silly, Emme,” he said, turning the hole into a grave. “The Boston CIA field office.”

  Irish cleared his throat as if he was about to speak again. He stopped when Emerson held up one hand.

  14

  Emerson

  Something had been bothering me all night. Tommy and Paxon had shown up nine months ago. Three months later, I was contacted by Dr. Benjamin. Lynx said Tommy was on Benjamin’s detail. How could that be so if the agent arrived before the doctor?

  There was something they weren’t telling me, and Paxon skirting my questions only served to confirm that suspicion. Lynx was no better. He’d paid attention; at any time, he could’ve responded.

  I looked between him and Paxon; this had little to do with the other men in the room. “Gentlemen, until you are prepared to be completely honest with me, there’s nothing further for us to discuss.”

  Paxon approached me. “Emme, you’re a target.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “What do you think it means?”

  I was seething at his condescending tone, and took several deep breaths in an attempt to not completely lose my shit. I looked over at Lynx, who nodded. Was he encouraging me to continue my line of questioning?

  “Are you saying you believe I’m in danger?” I asked Paxon directly.

  “I’m sorry, but I do, Emme. Now you understand why I’m suggesting we work from the field office.”

  Something else occurred to me that made Paxon’s staging the meeting at my place this morning reckless on his part. “I want my apartment swept.”

  Paxon looked confused. “Do you really think that’s necessary?”

  “Yes. It’s necessary.” Lynx answered on my behalf. “She also needs a keypad entry installed.”

  “I’ll take care of both,” said Decker.

  I needed time to think without six sets of eyes studying my every move. “If you don’t need me for anything else right now…”

  “I’ll walk you over,” Lynx offered before Paxon could. Much to my relief.

  Once we were in the hallway with the door closed, he put his hand on my arm. “Emerson—”

  “I need my phone.” Whatever he had to say, I wasn’t interested in hearing. While I was more concerned with Paxon’s behavior, I still believed there were things Lynx was keeping from me too.

  “Mario Andretti is on it,” he responded, winking.

  I smiled despite how hard I was trying not to.

  “He should deliver it shortly.”

  “Thank you.”

  When he bent his head as though he was about to kiss me, I moved out of reach.

  “Please don’t,” I murmured. So much had happened in the span of twenty-four hours, and my mind was reeling. I needed to sort it all out. Surprisingly, I found myself wishing I could talk to Bridget. I couldn’t. In fact, I couldn’t talk to anyone outside of the man in front of me and the men currently in Tommy’s apartment.

  “Emerson, if you and Saint…”

  I shook my head, wishing he weren’t pushing so hard. “What was it you said about me getting together with Bridget?”

  His eyes scrunched and bored into mine.

  “You said I should see how it goes.”

  “Are you suggesting we do the same?”

  “You don’t know anything about me, Lynx. We fell into bed without knowing each other’s last names.”

  “What do you propose?”

  I shrugged. “Do I really need to spell it out?”

  “Are you suggesting I ask you on a date?”

  “No, but the first step should be getting better acquainted.”

  I frowned when he raised and lowered his eyebrows and winked.

  “Very well. Emerson,” he sighed. “Would you join me for dinner this evening?”

  “I’ll have to take a rain check. I’d like to get some rest.”

  He leaned forward and kissed my forehead. “I’ll be down the hall if you need anything.”

  It wasn’t long before I heard another knock at my door. When I looked through the peephole, I saw Lynx’s driver on the other side and opened it.

  “Your phone, ma’am,” he said, handing it to me.

  “Thank you…I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.”

  “Mario, ma’am.”

  “That’s funny.”

  He cocked his head in a way that meant maybe it wasn’t funny after all. “Your name really is Mario, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “By any chance, is your last name Andretti?”

  “Um, no, ma’am, it’s Smith.”

  “Seriously? Mario Smith?” I was making this worse, not better. “Wait here, Mr. Smith.” I grabbed my bag and handed him two folded twenties. “This is for bringing me my phone.”

  “That isn’t necessary, ma’am. Mr. Edgemon already paid me.”

  “Are you his driver exclusively?”

  He shook his head.

  “Hmm.” I had an idea brewing and tapped my finger on my bottom lip. “Are you driving for Mr. Edgemon this afternoon?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Would you be up for a drive down the Cape?”

  He nodded, and his eyes lit up, probably at the prospect of a hefty payday.

  “One condition, though.”

  “Name it.”

  “You have to drive within the speed limit.”

  This time he smiled. “I promise.”

  I pulled him into my apartment by the arm. “Wait here.”

  “Um…I’m double-parked, ma’am,” Mario called after me when I walked toward my bedroom to call my parents.

  “Go downstairs and tell Mr. Bridges you’re waiting for me. I’ll be down in a jiffy.”

  I made two calls. One to my office to let them know I’d be taking a few days off, and then to my parents to let them know I’d be visiting. I’d just finished packing my bag when I heard yet another knock at my door.

  I checked the peephole, and instead of Lynx or Mario checking to see what was taking me so long, Paxon stood on the other side.

  “Are you going somewhere?” he asked, eyeing the suitcase next to me.

  “To see my parents.”

  “When will you be back?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure, Paxon.”

  “Can I give you a lift?”

  “No, um, Lynx’s driver is taking me.”

  “Huh. Okay, well, can I walk you downstairs?” he asked, picking up my bag.

  I thanked him and locked my apartment door behind us. Once we were in the elevator, Paxon set my bag on the floor.

  “Emme…I just want you to know…Lynx told me about you and Saint.”

  “Yes, well…” I stammered, not knowing exactly where he was going with this, especially when he cleared his throat and took a step closer to me.

  “I realize that this might be coming out of left field for you, but to be honest, once this mission was over, I planned to ask you out myself.”

  I bit my tongue to make sure my mouth wasn’t hanging open. In the last several months, I’d had fewer dates than I could count on one hand—and dinners with Tommy didn’t qualify. Those weren’t dates. Well, until the last one, but I hadn’t known it was a date, not until he kissed me when he walked me to my apartment. Even then, it wasn’t a date. It was dinner, followed by an unexpected kiss.

  I looked up at Paxon, who seemed to be waiting for me to say something. I could ask why he had this sudden interest, but that might come across as rude. I put my finger on my lip, trying to think of something that might not offend him.
“Uh, that’s very nice…” I said as we exited the elevator.

  He handed the driver my bag, and I was about to get in the car when Paxon put his hand on my arm.

  “Wait. I want you to know that when his boss leaves your heart in pieces, there’s someone who cares enough to help you put it back together.”

  Before he could say anything else, I got into the waiting car and closed the door behind me. His boss? Whose boss? Mario’s boss? I closed my eyes and rested my head against the seat. Paxon had to mean Lynx.

  But why did Paxon think Lynx was going to leave my heart in…what was it he said? Pieces.

  “Mario?”

  “Yes, ma’am?”

  “You aren’t at all attracted to me, right?”

  “Um…you’re very pretty, ma’am, but…I’m married.”

  “Thank God,” I muttered. “Oh! I have one stop to make on our way.”

  After our stop at MIT, the rest of the hour-and-a-half drive down the Cape was uneventful. Once I’d given Mario my parents’ address, neither of us said another word, and I was grateful for the solitude.

  I smiled when the car pulled into the driveway and I saw my mother and father sitting on the second-story deck. My mother stood and came to the railing while my father walked down the stairs that led from the deck to where we were parked.

  “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” my dad said as I fell into his embrace. “What’s this?” he asked when he saw tears in my eyes.

  “I don’t know why I don’t visit more often.” I looked up to where my mother stood. “I miss you both so much.”

  My dad put his arm around my shoulders. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters.” He looked at my head. “What happened?”

  “Minor cut,” I muttered, paying Mario and thanking him after he’d taken my bags out of the trunk. He nodded, and before I could say another word, he was in the car, pulling away.

  “Interesting fellow,” my dad muttered.

  “You don’t know the half of it.”

  He chuckled and led me to the front door, where my mother stood waiting. She held out her arms, and I walked into them like I had with my dad. Once again, I felt myself tearing up.